


Raising Cane

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya receives a special package.</p><p>Written for MFU 100 - prompt - cane</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raising Cane

 

The knock surprised both men, although it wasn’t as if they were doing anything important.  It was a rarely enjoyed day off.  The sun was shining and neither of them had a chore in the world.  A whole day just to be by themselves and let the world take care of itself.  They were sprawled on the couch, each with a section of the paper.  The coffee table, surprisingly enough, held two coffee cups and the remnants of their breakfast.  

Napoleon got up and approached the door cautiously, keeping to one side.  “Yes?”

“Package for Mr. Kuryakin.”  The voice was muffled, but Napoleon recognized the voice.  He checked the peek hole, even as Illya held his pistol steady.  When he was certain, he nodded and Illya lowered his weapon. 

Napoleon undid the locks and opened the door to an UNCLE courier.  “Good morning, Davey.  How are you?”

The man suppressed a yawn and smiled sleepily. “Could be better to be honest, Mr. Solo.  The baby has decided that sleeping is for the weak.”

“And the tired.”  Illya appeared behind Napoleon and Davey handed him the package.  “Give your wife our best.”

“Will do.” And with a wave, he was gone.

Illya carried the package to the dining room table, shaking it as he went.

“What is it?”  Napoleon pulled a small jackknife from pocket.  He looked over Illya’s shoulder.

“Not a clue.”  He slit the twine holding the box closed and toss the top back.  He didn’t worry as UNCLE had already check it for THRUSH traps.  As he pushed the brown paper aside, he caught his breath and made a small sound.  Illya lifted a cane out of the box and held it to his chest.  His eyes were closed and his lips moved silently. 

“Illya?  Are you okay?”  Napoleon took a quick step towards Illya, whose head bobbed up at Napoleon’s voice.

“This is my Grandmother’s cane.  I never thought I’d see it again.”  He ran his hand over the polished wood, stained dark with age and usage.  To hold it was like being himself held.  He could almost feel her arms around him, crooning softly as he shuddered in fear from night terrors.

“I thought your grandmother died years ago.”

“She did and I thought this was lost when I left the USSR.  It was all I had left of hers.”

  Is there anything else in the box?”  Napoleon looked over his shoulder.

“I don’t know.”  He rustled through the stiff brown paper and pulled out a small slip of notepaper. “Just the note that says “A friend.”  Illya shook his head.  “But who?”

“A friend, I guess.”  Napoleon tried to keep the glee from his eyes.  The hunt finding that cane, the strings he had to pull, and the money he had to pay out in bribes, it was all worth the look of happiness on Illya’s face. Then Illya abruptly kissed him and Napoleon blinked.  “What was that for?”

Illya waved the paper at him.  “For being a friend.  My friend.”

“Am I busted?”

“In the most appreciated way possible.”  Illya placed the cane lovingly on the table.  “How did you find this?”

Napoleon offered Illya his hand.  “Come on and sit down.  It’s a long story.”

“Don’t leave out a thing.”

“I won’t.  I wouldn’t.”  Napoleon cupped Illya’s cheek, smiling as Illya leaned into the hand.  “But maybe just a little later.”

“Or a lot later?” 

“We have time.” 

And Napoleon conceded that they did for today it felt as if they had all the time in the world.

 

 


End file.
